


They say it's Twenty-Twenty .

by sheepbopeep (witchcess), witchcess



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F, F/M, Tumblr: FFXIVwrite2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchcess/pseuds/sheepbopeep, https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchcess/pseuds/witchcess
Summary: We follow the adventures of Na'na Niall, in a prompted placed preference of story. Where the timeline is redundant, and a story is interwoven from each worded prompt. What will I write from one day to the next? Decorating the chapters of those tidings she feels, or others to tell.
Relationships: Fordola rem Lupis/Original Character(s), G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Original Character(s), Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Original Character(s), Zenos yae Galvus/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 2
Collections: #FFxivWrite2020 Final Fantasy 30 Day Writing Challenge, Final Fantasy Write Prompt Challenge 2020





	1. Says whom?

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⎇ Content will contain sexually explicit chapters.

⎇ Mentions ⠀of Rape & Non-consensual actions.

⎇ ⠀ ⠀Violence⠀⠀ and⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ suicide⠀⠀ ideation.

⎇ ⠀ ⠀Every⠀ ⠀ chapter ⠀ ⠀ will have ⠀ a warning.

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⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ Welcome to my prologue chapter, I am currently in the middle of moving and job changing. I got fired after being harassed, and trying hard to absolve the issues at hand. I have a lot of support irl and online, so I am doing well. However, in me stating this. It is a bit of a drive and resolve to give myself something to work for. As well as on. FFXIVWRITE2020, came to me over twitter and has given me a goal to work on during these hard months. The stress of life often can be overbearing especially with the pandemic going on, however having something targeted in something I am interested in. Helps take the strain off the shoulders, creatively speaking I wanted something like this. As such, this is how I came to deciding I would try for the first time participating in something like this!

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀I am currently developing a character that is self reflective, but also completely of her own volatile existence. In a sense that, she is always changing different through the story while remaining true to my favorite self reflective foundations of: Love, Hope, Belief. These are the main themes that will transpire - or I hope to conduct some how. Since this is just a writing exercise for fun, I am hoping it truly drives the gears in my mind into motion to create ideas that are constantly living rent free in my head. Into something more formulated and structural. As such, these pieces are more for my invention and exploration. Quite literally, I have intent that all these chapters are my gift to myself. Leaving a bit of me, with my very unfortunate current Hyper Fixation of FF14 to others... In a way that, maybe it will inspire others to have just as much energy and love for their characters. Or not find shame in the fact my Miqo'te Sun cat, is a Warrior of Light. An original Character by her own right, however still based on me.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀The theme for this writing event for me, is Catharsis. It is my favorite word lately, having a meaning that strongly represents the reasons for me to create and make everything that I want in mind to. Through the open relief of these chapters, creative exportation, and fun I hope to have. I wish to reach a sort of feeling of Catharsis. That will move on with me and give me confidence to continue creating, more with my Warrior of Light. However also, with more things that I love.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀All in all, going forward I am thankful to the #ffxivwrite2020 team and all its participants that I have seen on my dash having fun! You guys are amazing, and lets continue to go wild with our own individual head canons. Or exploration of the world, as the dev team once said in an interview. This is our playground!

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A chapter with ⬤ is an nonsubmitted chapter to #ffxivwrite2020

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Old Prologue:

I wanted to talk about what to expect and potential triggers, I will revamp this when I have more time and post the writing pieces. Please be aware, and understand Na'na is not a light hearted character. Rather she is kind and showcases the finer points of my favorite tropes: Girls who go through a lot but have the most love in them. Much like Shoujous or Magical girl animes. So at least have some idea what to expect.

Thank you for your time, I assure you I will write more within this starting chapter given time!


	2. Crux .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A memory forgotten and remembered only by one, here in this chapter we find an answer long ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Indeed I am trying to fit as much as I can, I have a lot going on. Moving and all! I hope that what I write and bring will share equal feelings to you all!

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Fingertips dress the air around them, pricking and preening for the form she wished to make - - -  
  
She hailed as the 14th seat of the Convocation. The one who lingers throughout the world and exists in places they would never see. The question so often pursued through the air between them all, the whimsically challenging one. She, who lived in essence of they, and inherently out of whim of them.  
  
The species of arguments and claims, needed the outsider to peer unto their actions with a perspective often unlike what they would think. As a Paragon, the 14th was one who held no interest or compliance to ever stay in one place too long - the perfect title of Social Butterfly. One would say, in the time of another age. Such a stature was odd to have a claim of, when socialization and equal care had been a quality shared by all Ascians alike. Yet the issue presented was, her over abundance and claim over understanding others was eerily unlike any could see.  
  
As such, she is the perfect seat of the 14th. Azem. As well as holding the unfortunate truth - a being so unlike any other. The quiet bickering and discern of the other seats often mulled over how charmed they all were by her, yet all the same they held such disdain. How was it one being could equally single handedly hold such Hate but Love all the same.  
  
 _‘Oh, but I would not have it any other way.’_ The woman would spake often to the one named Hades and Hythlodaeus, only ever speaking fully to them. The brazen often specular of opinions she would have, always wound the two on their heads. She was unlike them, all of them of Amaurot.  
  
To those who knew of her, or would come to have a chance to meet her. The Paragon was one whose rays shattered the entrance and ran certain your eyes over her. Never would you not take note of the wandering star of her existence, where she went often your heart would wish to go. Your mind would wander, you would think, and somehow come to know of something anew of yourself.  
  
Truly a Shepherd.  
Truly Azem of the 14th.  
Truly a **Crux** , a damning crux upon ones existence -  
because even he was absolutely charmed by her. Moved by her. Unable to have thought of life about him, without the conception of her by his side. Life always a sense of existing, plainly. Eternally with purpose, yet when it was she was there. Existing held different meaning, and always would life flow forward alike the churning waves of Aether pooling about.

Yet in this moment she was quiet, focused - unlike the bursting form of Aether Hades knew of her to be. She had finally come with want to make certain her own creation. Pleading with Hythlodaeus to have trust in her, as to what she would bring. The long locks of white hair sliding past her neck. Exposed, a strange thing to occur but he found himself distracted by it - in a sense of annoyance.  
  
Yet it showed truly how focused the woman were, and when she had settled on its shape. The circular existence coming into being, there had been a warming gesture of life to her. As if all that she held - such love. Would form into existence here, and it was in that moment Hades had once again felt himself charmed.  
  
Love such a strange complicated enigma for their people, and she did naught but have a pool of it. As if her Aether solely was made of it -  
“I breathe into you love, so that you know always to lead as to be led. Where life is to be your home. Where home is where you make your life, like me it is you shall be. Beside me we shall go, form before me with the Shepherds whim.” It was a whisper, and he could only hear of it since he listened ardently to her more often then he may admit or like.  
  
There before him settled the most irksome of shapes, a cotton like rounded being came into existence. It’s seeming fleece color’d black. Horns protruding from the small head that now rested quaintly upon the womans fingertips. Extending them out after pulling and preening with her own imagination and creation magicks.  
  
“What is it?” Hades deterred, with apparent thick soundings disdain.  
  
“Oh this is so exciting, I did not think you would ever want to create anything!” Hythlodaeus claimed having ushered himself over to the being. Pressing his hand upon its fleece.  
  
“Tis a Sheep, I call it. A Sheep for a Shepherd.” Azem claimed with a sudden exuding brilliance that made Hades want to roll his eyes to back of his head. Again, disdain upon his mood. The woman had laid herself over the large being. Along with Hythlodaeus. The two, now bouncing on the creatures back, “It’s so soft…. Hades come touch.”  
  
“This was what you claimed to me would be life changing?” Irked again, he did not move from his spot.  
  
“It’s so wonderful, come touch upon it. It will warm the core of your heart.” Her comment alone nearly caused him to leave then and there. Grumpy - for whatever reason. Perhaps annoyance that he felt this a waste of his time. After she had paraded this moment to be a milestone in the making.  
  
“I shan't do no such thing.” He turned in response, Hythlodaeus having come between him and his disappointment, “Are you just unhappy that rather then come see you immediately, she wanted to do this.”  
  
“I care NOT, for trivial antic-what is that?” Hades began turning his head over peering toward Azem and the thing within her hands. It was a smaller… Sheep. Another one of those things they had created moments earlier but smaller. Lacking horns for protection.  
  
“What’s what?” She states, knowing that his irritation would boil over by playing this teasing game. Though, that is. He would very well join along if it wasn't under serious circumstances.  
  
“Are you permitted to create more?” Hades began to question, looking over to Hythlodaeus. Whom strummed in with a charming hum of approval, clapping his hands together, “Oh so good, so wonderful!”  
  
“Did you- is that why she invited the both of us here?” Hades allowing the realization to settle in, wherein her friends being two of the most pivotal members of society. Inviting only them to the room of creation with her there, holding a performance of comical value unto them - again wasting his time. Not that Hades had anything better to do, and avoiding the Convocation was something he welcomed at any rate.  
  
“Oh, don’t put that against her!” Hythlodaeus began to state, causing Hades to turn away. For one moment. Sure enough, when his head turned back another Sheep had been formed within her hands. Whilst another rested on her head. She was tossing the other playfully in the air and catching it.  
  
“Persephone.”  
  
“Noooo!! Not the nickname you gave me!!!!” Azem misses catching the smaller sheep. Watching as it lands upon the other below it. Bouncing onto the floor as if it had impeccable balance. Knowing full well the name he stated toward her, a different iteration of her actual name. One he used often to coil around the core of her heart. Would, humiliate her or bother her. It was used to reign back sense of her - one it seemed she and Hythlodaeus seemed to lack in this moment.  
  
He though, of course, was laughing. A glaring look was given to Hytholdaeus but it did not deter him. Instead it egged him further, the air about them being full of such positive affirmation and energy. The Sheep had begun to taut such small noises along with the laughing friend, while Azem had pulled her hood down. Rearing the mask off her face.  
  
“Stop, stop, stop!” Azem spouted unhappily, her face drawing an embarrassment even from Hades himself. Exposing one’s face like this was an ultimate form of intimacy - even at times a challenge. Only ever shared with the three of them - as far as he knew. As far as he would share of his own expression.  
  
Truly, she was causing a difficult point of interest for him. That he particularly could not face, embarrassed he looked away. Still taunting his disapproval, “Whatever when the both of you dare not involve me in it.”  
  
“That is why you are here, now you are a witness to the crime. As such, would you truly ever turn me-”  
  
“Yes, without a doubt.”  
  
“NO EMET!” It would seem she would return back his blow but stating his title as oppose to his actual name. She was already upon him playfully butting her hands against his crossed arms.  
“Now, now, theres no trouble here. Truthfully I know you better then you may think ‘Azem,’ I accounted for this situation. The paperwork accounted for all this, fear not for there is no ail in any of this.” Hythlodaeus calmed the situation between the two, patting her head whilst Hades had merely grunted in approval.  
  
The three ultimately, complimented one another well.  
  
“I am happy you came.” She says, pulling away and returning her mask upon her face. Kneeling down toward he ground offering a welcoming pat to her creations. Proud of them, much like he felt she should be. Hades would need inquire the reasoning of this creation but instead, teasing with some annoyance.  
  
“What now, shall we call you ‘Sheep’ then since you are so enamored by them?” Twas jest, one earnestly shared with love from him. Yet it caught him by surprise to hear her calm answer, charmed by the gentle soothing comfort of her voice. Knowing it was a sound she would never share with just any, “Yes…. Yes I would like that. I want to be a Sheep.”  
  
Strange. She was Strange. Truly Strange, a strange sense of existence Hades would never understand. Could never understand, yet all the same the change of his feelings upon the sounds of her voice. The antics of these moments. The memories that fuel’d him with want to see more, “So be it then.”  
  
  
  
 _’Never could I act without qualm of your existence, always did you walk into my life alike a crux of interest. A questionable puzzle that was not solved unto the end; I love you. Even after the stars sundering end.’_


	3. Sway .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miqo'te Life within Ul'dah Halls isn't a lifestyle for everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This operates with my own head canons. Sultress came from Sultana. Miqo'te took the human words and made a term for their own people. It is meant to empower women, or Miqote who sleep with powerful men or women. 
> 
> This is 1 or 2 chapters.

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The female Miqo’te Na’na, had a way with men - she knew this well. **Swaying** them unto her wants and whims of the world was a simple thing even if she did not like it. Yet to endure the world she was forced in, she needed to in some way. Coax these men into liking her, even as a courtesan like many other Miqo’te like her. She did not like it, it was not a job she felt herself charmed by. It felt as if she was using others, even if there was consensual want between both parties.  
  
Yet always, it settled uncomfortably upon her. Viewing her actions no less than a woman of lies. Honesty is something she wished to live by, giving a well of love and trust to those who adored her. Yet it felt this was not the way, it was as if praying upon men who often came to her house with broken wills or hearts. It was rare she slept physically with any of them, it was far too often that she was bought for nights of chatting.  
  
Women or Men, pouring her heart to her after she had managed to sway their attention unto her. A feat apparently by those who spoke of her, seemingly easy for her to do by every night. Yet she claims and explains to her other fellow Courtesans, “I show care for all who come to me. The world is dressed with the aftermath of Calamity. Show you earnestly care for them, I assssure you they will succumb with want of love.”  
  
“So you sell this…. Love?” A Miqo’te from the Se tribe responded, eyes veering her over with wonder. A haughty click of her tongue showing disapproval - clicks often having negative connotations, “Like a midlanders love? I do not think Dunesfolk men care for any of that. They have money, not hearts!”  
  
Suddenly laughter erupted between them all. The Miqo’te women often chat before the nights become full of people. Attention and sex being sold by them, as Miqo’te women were seemingly prized and obsessed over by the people of Ul’dah. Ever since seven years ago when the calamity had come upon the world. Many secondary tribes are unable to live any longer out on the harshness of the world. Coming to the city states for help - Ul’dah being the only place of acceptance.  
  
Na’na herself, originally hail’d from the Foundation, a blinding truth that she never spoke to others. Less they adhere to her, akin to Elezen or fault her for having a ‘sheltered life.’ When her life past the steps of faith were a hell she would never wish to live again. Nor condemn any of her peoples through.  
  
“No, no, I know they are made of sssstone.” She jests causing a second uproar of laughter to be shared, one seemingly extending after she spoke, “I just mean, maybe tenderness is more important than having sex with them. The low ears do not understand a family love like our people…. They are always so broken.. Empty… Lonely.” Na’na spoke truthfully, staring at the mirror before her. Her eyes peering upon her figure, the red cloth that dressed her figure. Made her large breast which were a favorite among the Low Ear folk, seemingly more bountiful. If that could ever be possible, she hated it but would comply to acknowledge Miqo’te figures were prized obsessions among the men within Ul’dahs walls.  
  
“You think too much, you will never be a prized Sultressssss among the higher paying men or woman if you think like ‘at.” The other women agreed, preening with facts about why. Churning discussions about what would heed a proper Sultress- famed Miqo’te women who sleep with the wealthiest people of Ul’dah.  
  
Na’na rolled her eyes but chuckled, “I am not interested in such a thing.”  
  
She mean’t it, to sleep her way to power was never her interest even as a Sun Miqo’te. Well aware of the drive of Nunh pleasantries. Yet such rules did not matter as much here within the walls of Ul’dah. The calamity forced their peoples way of living to change, if just a bit. Something that felt natural to their people. So comfortable with their bodies and sex drives.  
  
“No matter, I will see you out on the floor. Good luck girls!” Na’na chimed, leaving to settle herself in for the house’s night. Prepare for whatever would come or may.

\- - -

Na’na had a way with reading people, if it would mean anything. It merely meant she had experienced such thresholds of life no woman or being should ever go through. Her soul was worn, exhausted, and fragmented in many ways than one. The experiences her weary soul had felt, lived with her through each of her actions. As such, when her eyes make note of a man with white hair. Leaning upon the wall, disfigured looks of haunting lust casting over many of the women.  
  
Even her own breast as she walked by, yet he merely spoke and never settled with one for the night. As such, this sat particular with her. Succumbing to her own nerves, she rose to approach him. A genuine curiosity came about her.  
  
“My, my, why is your interest all over but none of the woman here hold your interest? Or are you interested in men?” The comment caused him to scoff. He immediately answers with seemingly pressed interest of her. Leaning forward to take a strand of her hair after having expressed his disagreement with what she said.  
  
“I merely was waiting for someone as beautiful as you to come along.”  
  
Na’na was bad with men like this, the blatant subtext of flirting he used against her rivolted her. She could not hide the disgust on her face, and as such he laughs backing away.  
  
“Alright, I see nothing I normally use on other women will work with you. Why did you approach me?” He leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed shuffling the mechanical item that lingered along the arm she faced.  
  
“Whats that?” She asked ignoring his question, she held a short span of attention. At the same time, she held such value and curiosity that would stem some of the most fierce of conversations. Lasting hours on no end because of it.  
  
“Oh that will just bore you honestly -”  
  
“Try me, or am I too fierce a woman that I am already overwhelming you with my looks?” She tauts, a finger pressing against his side. Causing him to draw an eyebrow toward her.  
  
“You know you’re not a normal Courtesan, you haven't even tried to bed me yet.”  
  
“All who has come to attempt, have done naught to quench your interest. Is it not then, you wish for talks and company with a mind rather than body for the night?”  
  
This surprised him, for whatever reason. Na’na observed with fierce honey color’d eyes, her slit pupils absorbing every momentous reaction to her timely placed words. All of which drew curiosity for a numeral amount of reasons, the way that she spoke and how she was not so often drawn to fall into the Sun Miqo’tes tongue. Had mean’t she was raised different, and the only importance of this had been to feed his true purpose here.  
  
“Perhaps you can come to help me after all.” The male reared a bag of gold forth, rather suddenly and Na’na was most impressed by how timely it reared from his hands. Perhaps she allowed herself a haunting sexual notion for the time being, but she took the gold and with that slid her arm between his, “Come, I have my own room. We can talk for the night.”  
  
After leading him toward the back, where the door toward the courtesan rooms laid. She had find held care to ask, “What shall I call you, for I am Na’na Niall.”  
  
“Thancred Waters.”


	4. Muster .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2/2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me nyooming to get these done. I apologize if anything is not.... Written well! But again its for fun so to heck with it!

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It had been hours since they came within the walls of her small room. There were quite a number of books cascaded throughout the place. Namely items about the stars, and an interest of the world and its energy therein. It had caught the males interest, and as they spoke he had want to ask her of things. Yet, she had somehow turned the situation to speak about himself.  
Before he knew it, the woman had sway him into talking about all things he had yet to realize. Turning the conflictions of his issues with failure into a exchanged session of how he need not criticize himself so strongly.

  
“One wrong move, and I’ll end up dead… Hell the world could end up dead.” He omits, a hand rushing from his face unto the threads of his hair. Thancred had truly realized what strange trouble he had got himself into, but oddly he was calm and thankful. It had been some time since he settled on a woman’s bed without the thought of laying her flat against it. Muffling sounds of her moans dressing the air - yet as it were. He had begun thinking in a sense of thankful regard. He would urge himself to return thanks to her this way - if not somehow.  
Even if Na’na knew nothing of the ordeals he faced. The fact he could speak to them without fear of someone criticizing him for his faults. It rested comfortably on his shoulders. Settled the knots that tied up his mind.

  
“I wonder if that is why you sleep around so much.” The woman scoffs,”You will end up with an illness you cannot be rid of if you keep filling womens bodies with fluids of your own in hopes to dispel the thoughts that ail your mind.” She was brutally honest, clicking her tongue away in disapproval. It was in a way that mixed the sultry method of sex between much of what she said. However, he enjoyed it and was thoroughly thankful for it. It was as if the man he truly was, was not ignored or wrought with shame.

You are no different?” Thancred proses the question, finally leaning upon his side. Facing the other, with his head resting upon his hand, “Why do this, when I know your heart is not fully in it.”  
“Hm.” Na’na stared at the other with sharp eyes, craftily reading what it was he felt. Thancred did not know what answer she wished to see upon his face, but he remained calm. Whilst she watched for anything that merely mean’t he was playing with her, toying with her, wanting nothing more then to ridicule her. Yet. With their exchange and all he had said to her, the woman felt comfortable to speak, “I want to learn how to heal others with magic. I want to help others in their life, I want to travel and see these places you told me of. I want to touch all of the world with my hands, and give it love… So it could mend. So it could heal.”

  
“Hm.” Thancred was enamored, for what extent he did not know but he could see the way of life she lived here was not one she had wanted. Nor sought, even he knew the stresses of life within Ul’dah. Often visiting brothels like this one to make certain the people who served there lived happy and well. He had learned however, in this house there was one with a heart of adventure and a want to travel.

  
Rising to his feet suddenly, as if energy had come upon him. He knew how to return such help to her that she had given to himself.  
“Here.” Thancred handed her the rest of his gold. Na’na stared wide eyed, and before she could speak. Had pushed it toward him, her ears lowered and her tail having flickered with uncertainty, “Oh by the Twelve, no I do not want to sleep with you please. I insist… Youve helped me more then you may come to understand and if you will it… I wish to help one more.”

  
Canting her head, the Miqo’te listened intensely. Her eyes wide, whilst pupils seemingly sharp and readied to listen to all the other would say to her.

  
“Can you?”

  
She tilts her head with uncertainty.

  
“Can you **muster** the courage to begin again?”

  
Na’na did not exactly understand, staring at the bag of gil and quietly quelling thoughts over what this all had mean’t.

  
“Go to New Gridania, I have a feeling that what you want is there. I don’t know, but call it my gut feeling - and hell mine isn’t always wrong. Go. Take the Gil, start over. The Conjurer's guild will welcome you there. I noticed the staff when I walked in. I know you can do it. Become an adventure. Start over again.” Thancred felt - amazing. Self entitled to the apparent brilliance he felt he was giving to the other. Yet, Na’na felt nothing but uncertainty.

  
“I cannot leave my family, my home, this is all we know…. They -”

  
“Tell me who they are, I’ll make sure they are okay.” Thancred stated, with firm perseverance. Uncertain as to fully why he would go as far, but he was a committed man and when he had decided something. He would follow through with it.

  
She nodded her head, “Could you give me time to think it over?”

  
Thancred nodded, “Just send me a message, I’ll be sure to get it if you leave it with the brothels owner.”

  
“Of course.” Nana took the gil, into her hands uncertain of how to feel and overwhelmed by the actions of this man in current. Although, she wouldn’t understand now the moment for the two of them. Would circulate through their minds over and over again. For many moments to come, but as they stared toward one another. A well of tears coming into existence within her eyes, “Thank you.”

  
She could merely say, pointing at the door as if making it inherently inclined that he should very well leave. Rather then see a woman at her weakest, Thancred left to allow her to quell within her own thoughts.

  
Quell she did, laying there staring upon the chandelier that were a fixture of stars. Slowly churning all around her. The question posed within her mind, as she was in her mid twenties. How on earth could she truly become an adventurer at her age - was she not out of her years of capacity. Wasn’t the youthful air of ability gone from her? Shouldnt a woman at her age settle down and find a Nunh or low ear man to marry so her family could have money? Be safe?

  
The thoughts swarmed as she attempted to muster the courage to follow the calling within her heart that had been cradling her quaintly for so long, “Think. Hear. Feel.”

Words that begged and solemnly spoke to her in the questiest of nights, a methodical statement that held her with wonder. Would she? Could she? Should she?

Yet as the night would rear its end, her heart had song its tune to the truth of what it is that would come to whim. Yes, as the world around her geared for the welcoming of her adventures. Na’na Niall felt herself adequate to begin her life as an adventurer. To learn things with the money entrusted to her, to truly muster the will and courage to begin again.


	5. Clinch .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another messy writing piece, will try to fix it soon!

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“Youre more pathetic lookin’ than a dodos arse!”

  
“Like youre one to talk, why would anyone give a damn about you? Your tits are about the only thing going for you. Ss probably why no one actually slept with you back in the day.”

“Fuck off you come over ‘ere day smellin like the wastes of a morbol’s mouth. Fucken pathetic!”

  
The yelling continued, the exchange only growing with such fury between them. Yda frowned as they held their banter like this. The seeming uncaring value of hell lamenting from them both, Na’na annoyed by how the male was acting. Thancred, entitled to how he was acting. As such, the two often fought when she would come around after her long tasks.

  
Minfilla gone from them, unable to quell the anger that fumed from them both. Indeed the reason and furious squabbling from them both. She knew if the two continued, the words that would come to be exchanged may end up churning wounds from them both. That neither held place or mind to mend for one another. Worried, and frantic she tired hard to rear Na’na back from her own claims against Thancred.

  
However, before her arms could even reach out to hold the other back. Nana and Thancred had already began their fistful behavior. Although she was more than capable of apprehending either one of them. Ever part of her, did not wish to step between the powers of hatred currently being exchanged between them both.

  
“Y’sholta… Please?” Yda looked toward the Miqo’te who would earnestly and utterly be amused by the squabbling as always. However, with so uch death tolling upon them all. Y’sholta understood the meanings behind these squabbles. The lingering concern grew when the fistful of fighting had commenced in such close quarters, the **clinch** shared between them had began to escalate. At this point she found herself utterly disgusted by the distasteful exchange between them both.

  
“Enough.” The winds of her magic found existence, and sliding between the two figures in a matter of moments. Sending the two bodies flying backwards. Thancred clamouring through wooden desks and tables, whilst Na’na had slammed upon the brick wall. There it was evident their wounds had took a toll on them both. They had truly began to gun for one another's lives - why. Why was this the case?

  
Rising first to her feet, Na’na drew herself forward so that she could look down upon the other. The grimacing glare that held upon her expression shattered the calming facade Thancred had, had. In this moment, all he had felt was fear. He knew the woman held a control over the Void since her time within the Foundation. As he saw her now from time to time, dawning a long sword on her back.

However in retrospect, to see the instilled darkness welling around her directed toward him. Tore him asunder - what did he do?

Why did so much hate him?

Why did he lose so much?

The pathetic expression of confusion came upon his face, if not for the fact he was not sober. Perhaps he would hold a ail of calmness, face the woman who held such disturbing disgust of him. Tell her he was sorry for the disappointment he was sure she felt of him - that everyone felt of him.

“You. Once. Told me. To have COURAGE. To start again.” She began, the cool air around him causing his breath to dress forth the air of its warmness. He could not face her, the sound of her voice chilled him to his core. As if he was meeting judgement, as if his life would soon come to an end and no longer know the truth of life again.

“Yet you would stand before me, a weak fool with no means to ever try again. You would stand before me after all that you said, after all that youve done, and let it mean NOTHING.” Na’na’s words wrought shame to the entirety of those listening within the rising stones. Y’sholta could not look at the pain that exudes from the woman before them. The one who shouldered all that had happened the hardest of them - they had almost expected her to lose her sanity. Yda had question, was this it? Was this what would truly end it all again?

“You would - lie. You would lie just to make yourself feel better again? You are no different from the man who slept around to let your anxieties go - you are no different from another man who would hurt others just to see yourself happy again.” He knew how much this hurt her, he knew specifically what this meant, and even as the Scions looked away from the heart felt abrasion that intoxicated Thancreds already broken mind. None could say anything to stop it.

  
“Hi guys I brought some tea-” Tataru had clamoured into the room, and as the gradual swelling darkness that licked a like a flame along Na’nas figure had came to be. Twas the soft tune of Tataru’s voice that dimmed it again. Gone, the fear that instilled upon all around them. As if accepting the fate of hell that would soon come from it - gone.

  
“O-Oh I heard noises… Oh goodness Thancred are you alright?” The lalafell chirped, stopping to put the tea set upon a table. While her hands cupped either side of her cheeks.

  
“I will go.” Na’na stated with such disregard of the situation. The heels of her shoe echoing within the chambers. As she turned hard to leave, the steel of her pieces moving together being all that filled the room. Aside from Tatatru’s frantic movements.

\- - -

She had left, with a mind to never come back again. Yet she knew that she would, where else would she go with such grievances of heart and mind. There was no place else for here, but this small place she called home. However, as her heart ached she knew there was no escape from the truths of what she had seen. All of what she claims to be, and the antics of her actions left her wandering until she came upon a place to wail the weight of her heart loss. Where none would hear of her, where none would judge of her - a silence of the air aside from the chirping frogs that reminded her of life all around her.

  
There she cried out the aches and knots of her heart. So fervently passionate about all that came to her life. Her hands touching along the whims of life, the beauty of those around her. To see to it that all can heal, to see to it that all can be, but the world was far to cruel. Even she who had spent years dressed with the individual cruelness of people. Had not thought new forms of hatred and evil could exist in plenty.  
Twas what Frey had claimed of her soul, speaking softly with utterance, ‘Leave all to me. When you see to it the world has wrought nothing to you but emptiness.’

  
Always would she disagree to that empty darkness, the void of her hatred swelled as much as her love. A truth that none knew of, and if they did she wondered if all could still heed her a hero of light - a hero of love. Always Fray warned of her, in moments where she heeded to ignore all that she lost. Yet remember all that she loved - Never get so lost in the light, or drown so deep unto the darkness. Less you truly lose faith in yourself.

‘But even so, not even you could do such a thing.’ It was in essence Fray’s only acceptance of Na’na as a woman. An enigma that was loved by all. Hated by all. Holding within her chest in equal to them, the same. She had never let loose such fury upon another with vacant truth like she would and had of Thancred. Infuriated with as much that he has lost, so too she had watched all melt from her fingertips.

Yet Thancred dressed the world of his pain, with action. It infuriated her, she would treat all with such cruelness after the hope that he instilled to her that day: Have courage to Muster and begin again.

Fray echo’d solemnly to her, you are a Woman filled with far too much Love.  
A pool of it. You will die in agony, as you drown within it now.  
Yet all the same, this is your Strength.  
Ay, nay there be a finer Dark Knight.

So wept she did, with such hatred and love within her heart. Knowing full and well, tomorrow would be a new day again. The images of those she had lost, those she had loved, those who had left her alone again - that all of which she loved. Would spurr her forward again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of 9/9 this is a chapter I want to spend time fixing because god i love dark knight. I feel like people misunderstand its edginess but also this chapter is full of cringe and edginess. Darkers rise up SDNJFKSD. *Unleashspam*


	6. Matter-of-Fact ⬤.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fordola and Na'na confess to each other again.

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Na’na could not answer often with the allure and care of a politician. Or pose her words with honey dressed care. Instead the cool air about her, and sharp gazes would instill despair upon others. A fear much like Shiva the Primal, dressing the one who would catch this gaze in frozen fear. Seemingly aware that time passed by them, seemingly without hope as to what to say, deterred by the only fact the woman before them looked as if all the hatred that wallowed deep within her came forth in the form of a look. Casting such animosity unto them,

“So What.” Plainly, **a Matter-of-Fact** statement made with uninterested want for an answer. Despite the question posed, there was no means to hear an answer.

“W-We…” The man began, but Na’na had turned upon her heel. The end of her sabaton skimming the surface of tile. Indenting with a fury, the male was sure as she turned a fire had been sparked beneath her heel. Anger seemingly formed still with her actions, as she cared for not what he would say.

“We will leave.” Na’na stepped forward, with no intent to look back. Allowing the back of her dressed armor piece to give the sense of disdain she had. Fury. Anger. All of which she felt followed her outside, wherein she had to search with dilated eyes for the partner she had came along with.

Eyes had laid on her, and by now after months of living her life as the ever acclaimed Warrior of Light. They were oft but the normal tidings of everyday life, as such she didn’t care and at this point if there was a problem. The large glowering sword upon her back would be ample reminder to leave the woman with her endeavours. 

One her eyes caught sight of her wants, however the expression along her visage changed. The empty brittle look of disdain, the hell that poured seamlessly through her woven regard, had merely come unbound. Her heels continued to clatter along the pavement heading toward the figures direction. The length of her armored gown trailing behind her like a flowing wedding dress. Causing many to continue their look of her, conflicted over the change of emotions she had. Furious, too suddenly enamored.

“Fordola!!” Na’na chirped with a honey dewed voice that reminded the woman of a southern hymn filling her mind. It annoyed her, when her name was called out with such high regard. As if she were not a war criminal, as if the other did not take into account what she had done, as if the world would care to listen to the sound of her own name ringing true through the air.

However, Fordola knew Na’na long enough by this point. The other Miqo’te woman did not care, and she often perhaps thought it was due to her upbringing within Ul’dah. Or as a Sun Miqo’te woman. Regardless of this singular truth she did not hold understanding over, Fordola still ignored her. Leaning against the tree with her arms folded beneath one another. 

“Fordola!!!” Na’na called again, this time racing a but more quickly toward the Hyur.

“Enough, stop jesting about like a child. I thought you went to find some place to sleep for the night?” Fordola answered, rising from the tree with a hand placed along its form to stand her up. 

“Nooo! Thats what I wanted to tell you, tonight I want to rest outside. Upon the stars…. Bessssside you~~~!” The Miqo’te accent slipped from her lips when she was most excited, and Fordola could not help but find herself embarrassed. Albeit roughly annoyed at the declaration made so opening. 

“If you say things like that in the open people will get the wrong idea.” Fordola taut, click her tongue in anger.

“Why? I love you though!” Such forwardness, such a **matter-of-fact** statement slipping out her mouth like it was an incantation of the truth.

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“Why?” 

“To what?”

“Why, do you say you love me? Like you don’t care about what I did or what happened? It makes me unhappy, and uncomfortable at best.” The voice that settles unto the open night skil perches the silence with a tone of sadness Na’na was all too familiar with. It was not hers who asked, but Fordola’s. Settled beside Na’na who had cuddled up next to her. Allowing their arms to interlock with one another. Her head upon Fordola’s shoulder, whilst Fordola’s resting quaintly after a long moment upon hers.

Yet, the truth of answering this was uniquely something only Na’na could individually ever know of.

“It’s hard to explain, you just hit your 19th nameday? No?.” Na’na raised her hand to gently rub along the others forearm. Reassuring her, “If I tell you now, you may not be satisfied but maybe one day. You will understand?”

Fordola had listened with an intensity she did not think herself to have, such evident want to hear the other speak made her feel childish again. When the other made comparison of her own age to Fordola’s, the Hyur could not help but further feel her age. As such, had it been told to her by any other. Anger would reel within her veins, but when Na’na spoke it held volume. As if her words were charitable care, that came from deep within the pool of love within her soul. Wishing to do naught but breathe truth with earnest hope in mind.

It was why in truth, Fordola felt she truly loved her.

Na’na took a moment to herself, squeezing Fordola’s arm. There was nothing presently sultry between the two of them, the only passion shared was that of earnest love. Hope in one, belief in the other. An equal sense of librium that intoxicated their nerves, and calmed them both with a knowing that between them. There was a passionate understanding unlike other people to have of them.

Fordola had been the only to peer into her past with lucid understanding, as if she perceived and felt it all the moment it had happened. Such respect came from her, given to Na’na without any need to exchange oft the day it had happened within the cells. As such, their relationship was decorated with a beautiful form of pleasantness. Two women who merely loved each other, and that was the only truth needing ot be known.

“I think long about the sadness in the world, the life that is so fleeting. How it is so easy for one to give in, like a void wherein feelings seep within its depth. Never to be found again- this void doing naught but taking from all. Taking from you. Taking from me. Taking from everything, with nothing to give.” Nana rounded her fingers along the lines of Fordola’s forearms. In thought and, imagining the sadness that she felt ate at the world eternally, “How many more of its people will suffer, for the sake of this void? The void that is created by everyone within it, including you. Including me.”

Fordola thought of what she had did, taking from the world when she had what was hers. Taking from her too, there was no care to give but vengeance and anger. The hyur understood the meaning of these words, and the horrors the images that it breathed. A deep breath, she exhales listening well to every word the other says.

“Instead all that people fill within each other, is anger that creates strife - ah I do not mean to make this a session to preach over.. No… I merely mean to say- there is a void that exists in every one of us. That can take from the world, but there too is also life and energy. Much like the Astral and Umbral polarities of stars that exist all among us. We must realize that to take means we must give, to heal we must act. To begin, sometimes we need to stop…. I think that, as people who exist in this world. The hardest thing for one to do is to establish balance like this and -.”

“Nana.” Fordola said, without the inherent pause of her name. 

“Ahh!” Na’na covers her face with her other hand, “You know that I get so side tracked talking. Truthfully you should let me talk my heart out if you want my answer. I had inssssisted this would take so long to explain.”

“I only want a straight answer.” Fordola states, rearing her head back looking unto the stars that were shared between them within the night sky.

“It is that -.” Na’na tried once more, “It is that, you would try again when the world would wish to do naught but take from you. You would try again, to give again. Knowing full well that your actions did nothing but hurt so many… Destroy so many…. That you would become a different woman now, the best woman you wish you could be. Even in the face of all the hatred, and anger of the world around you. You would, for yourself… For others…. For…” 

Fordola could tell the Miqo’te had began to become emotional, but rather then speak she allowed the other to continue. Smiling faintly.

“You would try, again. When so many people would not think to live with the actions of the world and what they did - you would live to try again. Knowing the consequence of what you did - you are so beautiful Fordola.” The Sun cat stated, between small immeasurable tears. Holding fast to the womans arm and burying her face within it. The woman envisioned so many broken hearts she had seen in her time as the Warrior of Light. The many of people who could do naught but succumb to darkness, succumb to anger, and be taken advantage of by it. How so many Ascians did naught but pray privy to the broken hearts and short lives of people. Thinking that there was no future, filled with hope or belief in it.

She wept for the souls who would never know peace. For Haurchefant who could not see Isghard coming about so beautifully. For Papalymo who could not see how far Lyse had went. To know that Moenbryda had succeeded in showing them a path forward, when things seemed so overwhelming and bleak.

That in her own heart she would continue with love and passion, believing. Hoping. With such fury upon her, that Fray himself could do naught but find beauty in her own being as well.

“I love you too.” Fordola stated **matter-of-factly.** A truth met into the world while she somberly and most quietly cried her heart out. She knew that Na’na held hope and faith that the world could change within her own existence. Perhaps that was too much to ask of Fordola, but after all the grievance she had brought to the world. Truly, she believed in the woman Na’na believed in her to become.

The two sat there, the rest of the evening. Accepting that the love they shared would remain in the passionate depth of their hearts. Rearing naught but the utter acceptance of one another in their lives. As well as what that had meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their relationship with one another is nice, I hope to touch up again. Nana is polyromantic, especially as a suncat. However Fordola and Nana have differences even she understands that could never be. Especially with how much older Nana is, and the difference in experience. Instead they have a beautiful healthy relationship with one another, empowering each other with the utter admittance that they love each other, matter-of-factly.


	7. Lush .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short excerpt of some of the PTSD/TRAUMA Na'na goes through. This includes further headcanons about Sun Miqo'te life in impoverished states.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Child sexual assault, induced trauma, mental illness.

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What one would think luxurious, she had felt a curse. The woes of Miqo’te women were one in many, wherein women of their race did not often realize the ardent fetishization of their figure. The shapish looks they held, bodies seemingly curvous whilst other races were often stout or smaller in comparison. Yet it was not this simple matter that made them often fawned over for their sultry expenses. Often riding the halls of Ul’dah selling their bodies are prompt and touted Courtesans.

Twas but their open lifestyle, a heritage that kept the promise of fertility to the best among their separate clans. Ensuring longevity in their own ways, whilst establishing a strong family upbringing keeping generations of others out of their affairs. Which was now reduced to the freedom of others with riches, changing the tides of their heritage into something taken advantage over.

The strongest of men were acceptable to most Sun Miqo’te. As such, when the disparity had occurred, and the calamity came upon their kin once again. Their existence was tied between extinction or a way of life needing change. So change they had, and it had damaged so much of their life in the process of it. With such a short amount of time.

Na’na was no different from the line of other Sun Miqo’te that struggled for scraps and foods to merely get by. Instead she at the wee age of sixteen had been coaxed into wandering to a place she did not intend to be. Worried for her own hungry stomach, and curious of the world with such innocent understanding upon her. She had wound up with her friend, meeting these ‘older friends of hers.’ Older men who had money, and apparently wished it to them if they came to visit.

Thinking nothing of it, she went. However, all of her instinctual drive had begged her to leave, but hungry, worried for her family feeding her, and scared. Na’na marched on with her friend there beside her, “I don’t… Like it here…”

Na’na spoke gently to her friend, Ra’rasha. Who was nicknamed by her, as Rara. A personal and important nickname she held onto with loyalty and trust.

“It’s okay, they won't hurt you. We’ll get money and it will be easy!” She spoke with a firm nod of her head, merely a year older than Na’na herself, “Okay, Nana?”

A strange nickname allotted to her a bit of courage, so she once again nodded her head and took hold of Ra’rashas fingers. Interlocking them with her own, they had entered the place with these strange men. The halls to the area were dirty and smelt of waste. However when they went inside, the building within had walls lined with such beautiful wallpapers.

The men were pleased- seemingly. Excited to see Ra’rasha there, paying no mind to the shy girl named Na’na who let go of her friend and stood just a little aways behind the other. The men had commented on how beautiful she looked, wondering why she had come. The fellow Sun Miqo’te shook her head, saying that they were hungry and she knew that if she arrived here. That they would reward them with some gold, to find food to eat.

Apparently, as this was a regular occurrence they held no disdain in what the other said. As if the concept of using one another, was a regulated concept in this city. Within these walls, Ra’rasha had moved upon being answered, settling along the man’s lap that had spoke to her. It was then that Rara had taken note of Na’na seemingly lost. Waving the girl over to the other male beside them, he was of course waiting out of boredom.

Na’na paused for a moment merely walking over. She did not sit on his lap, but merely stood beside him. Which had been all was needed, for the man placed his hand along her backside. Cupping it and grasping it tightly - she squeaked. Immediately alarmed and disorientated, “What are-?”

The girl began to ask, her ears flatten against her head. Whilst her tail lowered skimming across the oddly polished floor. All that began to flash in her mind were how similar these moments were to the times within Ishgards walls. She had been a lucky Miqo’te to have lived a luxurious rich life for a time in the Foundation. Leaving only because her own Father did not wish her there no more.

“Yer arse is kinda feeling soft ‘n **Lush** , for a young girl. Guess Miqo’te girls are just like that? That’s why they are the best.” The man spoke about her body, about her heritage, about her existence as if it were naught but something to fetishize and elicit sexual want from, “Mind if I touch here too-?”

Na’nas eyebrows furrowed, knowing full well how not okay this was. However her friend, Rara seemingly content with this deterred her from speaking any more on it. Was this truly all that would become of her one day? All of her kind? 

All that she could recall, were loose memories of this time fading in and out. A void that ate at her feelings, a memory that intoxicated her life. For the sad truth was it would happen so many times over again. With the compliance of others, so much like Ra’rasha who spoke quietly afterwards.

“What’s wrong? Its not … Bad is it?” As if to state that - this was all they knew. This was all they were.

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The gentle word of **Lush** , haunting her. As it followed her from time to time, from man to man. Men breathing delicately down her neck, that the rounds of her breast when she had become a woman. Were a **LUSH** decadence, were the passionate want from men. Dragging fingertips along the corners of her body. Lingering there always no matter where they went. With a voice silently always uttering, ‘This is all that is.’

While another smiled, “Truly, this is all that is.”

Yet gently, with a compassion for herself and the world around her, “Yes Rara…. Truly…. It is truly bad.”


	8. Avail .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *falls to the floor* kyaa uwu pomff what we gunna do on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some graha/nana fluff.

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All that he could do, and all that he ever was. Seemingly felt as if actions were of no benefit to all of the world, not even himself. He prattled along for hours, studious and exempt toward any infiltrating thoughts to stop. Yet day dream he would, of people he wished to be. Knowing full well there was no part of him who could surmount the expectations or values of Heros so mighty.

Nay, he was oft but a scholar who held a book in one hand. Kneading into its pages, with such cemented value. As if each page held the answer to the future, or the depths of the past. As if everything before him written with dark inks, would liken him to answers that were untold. Reading so intensely he was ascertained only but an hour had passed. Yet to his surprise, a voice had called out to him.

“G’raha?” 

A honey sweet voice, a beautiful alto that held a hymn of lightness she did not know she held when talking to him. G’raha was smitten by it, though he admittedly would not tell her or others this. Perhaps it was easy to acknowledge with his antics therein, the lofty manner he responds. Snapping the pages of what he read shut, with a prompted noise. He followed up with a snarky grin. A hand upon his knee while puffing out his chest, clearly an unconscious attempt at showing off his figure.

“Oh, the esteemed Warrior has a need of me?” G’raha’s own voice seemed to reach a higher tone. His own voice, albeit a smooth tenor, seemed to fall into her own range. It was embarrassing, especially as a bard highly aware of the tonal value in voices. Yet he did not try to salvage his own acknowledge embarrassment. With belief that the other would not notice. 

“No.” G’raha could hear his heart ache suddenly - as if his own joke was not accepted by her. The grievance of it left him feeling shameful. Even so, the woman continued to stoke the flames of shame upon his heart by continuing as thus, “I was merely hoping to inquire as to why you are settled on the bookshelf.”

This had caused him to feel a sense of vertigo, having suddenly realized all too well where he was. The male loved and enjoyed high places, for a number of reasons. It ascertained his view of others throughout the room. A vantage point to look, merely enjoying the movements of others. To him, which were like watching stories unfold before him. Having seated here, he had watched Tataru and F'lhaminns speak in length about what items were needed for the kitchens. Enjoying the soft lofty voice Tataru had, always bringing smiles to those around her. He’d liken to listen to where she went, merely because the change in atmosphere would always follow her. 

Again, he enjoyed the consumption of stories. Stories that didn’t necessarily need to be placed upon text, just merely stories - enjoying the world around him with curious eyes. 

“Frankly I’ve been wondering for a while now, I’ve been in and out of here twice. Each time I’ve come you’re still upon its top. Enjoying the book you are reading, having not moved once. Have you even come to eat?” Her name was Na’na, the way the Sun Miqo’te would inquire about him while remaining true to her good hearted nature never ceased to amaze him. He felt truly embarrassed, blessed, and ashamed all singular in the full sweep of motion. 

“Hey are you listening?” G’raha suddenly realized he had not spoken nor answer her.

“U-UH!! Sorry, wait what time is it?” G’raha inquired, suddenly realizing all at once that he may have fixated a bit too much upon the book he had found within the halls of Syrcus tower. 

“The moon and stars are about, if that answers your question.” Na’na’s ears flickered in response, the tail seemingly a sharp swish as if curious and excited for the conversation between them.

Though for G’raha the realization that he had lost track of time, hadn’t eaten all day, and earnestly did not pay attention whatsoever. Alarmed him.

So much so, he fell from the bookshelf and onto the floor with a loud- THUMP.

“G’RAHA!” Was what he heard, before promptly passing out for a moment's time. Then promptly back, to see Na’nas face hovering over his own. It bewildered him, completely unaware of the hands that settled on either side of his ears. Garnering the Aether of the universe into a fashion of energy to be transported into his own. Healing him from the apparent fall he had foolishly had.

“You’re kinda an idiot, by the way. I just thought you should know that, it’s why I was asking as to the reason you were on the bookshelf in the first place. Mind you, it was really cute to see you so transfixed upon the book, sitting there with your leg swinging. Your tail flickering from time to time,” G’raha was listening, watching as she looked away. Recalling the image of himself upon the edge of the bookshelf. She was not embarrassed, nor shy to state that she had been watching him. The truth of it caused his face to turn a slight red, wondering why she was looking at him and hadn’t said anything sooner, “Why do you do that?”

Na’na suddenly asked.

The male had been on his back, suddenly face to face with her eyes. Slowly he began to realized where he was, placed upon her lap. It was hard not to take note of her large breast from this angle, but it was less about them being there. More that they were rather large and a bit in his way of seeing her expression fully. Let alone, the strands of hair that draped all over him. Several locks softly skimming against his neck. 

None of this predicament felt strange to her, but to him he had began to question so much of it.

“Do what?” G’raha asked, still uncertain as to how to feel about this situation. Mainly as to why he was questioning what this moment were, when otherwise he may have passed it off as a friend with healing magicks ascertaining another's health.

“Wanna go to high places?” Na’na seemed unsure how to prose the question, but he was a scholar and could infer a correct question in his head with this alone.

“Ah!” G’raha began, trying to gather his nerves. Place his thoughts in the correct order again, he could feel the book on his chest. Wondering why it was still there - all too hyper aware of many things. Very unable to set his thoughts straight, a part of him wanted the other to stop touching him. If it mean’t he could return his thoughts and sense of self back to normal. Being unable to have control over himself bothered him immensely. 

He was a Tia, disrespected and hated by his tribe for his inherent ‘disability’ to them. At all moments he felt to have resolve and means to be a functional person - somehow. It bothered him personally, to feel so out of nerves with himself over something that should be a simple exchange between two people.

“If I told you the actual reason why, you’d have reason to think I am even dumber then you do now.” The tone of his voice was low, and he was surprised to see himself feel grumpy. Or slightly annoyed, disappointed entirely in himself for the lack of display of ‘coolness’ before the figure that much of the world in current hail’d a hero.

“Try me.” Na’nas prompt response caused G’rahas ears to flicker. As if making certain he had heard her tone how it leaked with interest - no. An obsessive interest, how her fingers rounded locks of hair that scampered across his skin. Pulling them back behind her neck, so they held to one side. Therein, leaving a portion of her neck bare for him to see.

Why did his heart flutter at such a simple gesture, the view Na’na saw. Was a man seemingly and ever slowly becoming undone. To her, it was a curious wonder why the other had felt the simplest actions would cause him to succumb to the want of intimacy. So she tested him quite often, toyed with what was there. Yet truthfully, no one was more scared of the outcome than her.

“I want to seem cool.” His voice was clear, concise. It surprised himself, G’raha had stared up at the woman who looked down at him with an obsessive intent to listen. As if she was going to hang onto every word that he said. Hold it within her heart. Keep it so near and dear to her - and G’raha could hold such trust in that fact that he had suddenly began to speak more, “I want to seem like I am someone who could be like a Hero. Someone who is trustworthy. Someone who is full of such energy. I want to … Be like you?”

It was a question, because the truth was he never really thought hard on his antics. He merely acted on them, did them. 

The answer seemed to satisfy the woman, as her smile seemingly grew wider. Her eyes shutting ever so slightly and her expressive looked as if she had been given something she long awaited to hear, “I think that’s silly, there’s nothing wrong with who you are now. Even the you, trying to not be you.”

**To no avail** , could G’raha understand the reason for which his heart thumped rapidly within the quiet silence of the room. The Scions had all left for the night was not young, but here he were upon the floor. His head resting upon the lap of a woman, who he earnestly idolized as someone he wished to be so like. Yet she stated otherwise, that he was wonderful how he were. The expression she ordained toward him, the soft hymn of her voice that serenaded his anxieties to free ever so slightly from their binds upon him.

The truth of it was, he truly didn’t wish to be himself.

The boy with the red eye.

The boy who would never amount to anything.

Before him the one called a Hero, told him he was simply silly, and that there was nothing wrong with him. 

Even the him, that tried so hard to be someone else.

For some reason he could feel his heart aching more, a slight annoyance that he was acting nothing but akin to a child. He did not want to admit such a small exchange of words mattered to him immensely, there was not enough time in the world to tell her why that was. Or how it was it is. 

Before he could come to speak, the woman felt something would turn the tides into deeper waters. For the woman who had heeded so many hearts to wave unto the pool that was her love. She did not want him to feel amiss, “I think you are a bit too comfy on mine lap, had Thancred walked in he would be sure that I would bed you.”

“That I would think what?” Infact, Thancred had been there the entire time, “You need be more careful dear, I did in fact. Study at the Rogue’s guild, or have you forgotten?”

Before G’raha could relish what it was - the lap of this woman. A heavenly feeling he would come to think of often. The woman pushed him off - rather suddenly. Making it as if all the healing she had done. Were ought but naught, he felt the impact of the floor all over again.

“WHAT REASON DO YOU HAVE TO STALK ME FERVENTLY?” The anger that fumed from her mouth was excited - G’raha could tell. He also knew, she was often so worried for the male. Their relationship were truly akin to siblings that would fall into lengthy spouts ending in fights.

Collecting himself he heard a sudden, “Oh no, I am so sorry G’raha.”

Amidst the yelling going on. He could merely snicker, rising onto his feet with a slight dutiful pose, “As if that would ever kill me Warrior.”

Indeed just like that the moment had succumbed to the antics of life, and the whims of intimacy that had been shared between them left on the floor of where they were.

Yet for G’raha it was a moment that would pave more passion to come, for Na’na. Unknowingly did a seed of love begin to bloom. Far too curious about the boy who wished to be someone so unlike themself, but knowing that the truth had been they were what they always desired to be. An strange yet sad oddity to her, where she had wished and hoped with all the passions she had for Eorzea’s people. To allow G’raha the chance to know, he was always a Hero through and through.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades is annoyed by the shard of Azem that clearly acts with the hopes of a child. It irks him, but all the same secretly does it move him for some reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So little time for myself! Painted my moms room, sad to see her stressed because it cant be perfect. wished shed appreciate the imperfections in life. hoping to wake up early tmrw and do BIG cleaning things!!! Have a great weekend everyone!

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[ Ultracrepidarian ]

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The expressive ordain of opinions upon matters that they are ill suited to have. Entitlement existed in his every right, the sense of disdain milked verbatim toward the solicit word:  **Ultracrepidarian** . A complex word that did naught but hold whim of how it is he felt, annoyance arguably lining through the furrow of his face. Staring down the woman before him, the one he had felt and thought to be Azem.

“One life time would not sustain the nerve youve had to make light of what you just said.” Emet-Selch near growled. A bellowing statement that seemed to set the woman’s ears pinned back, and a scowl across her own face.

“Youre entitlement on who it is that lives and dies, is ridiculous.” Na’na firmly disputed.

“You do not listen, for a being with particular hearing, truly - you are deaf beyond compare. The star is sick, a mere fragment of what it use to be. Even you, despite all the hope you hath have of others, would see to it that it burns alive - Yes. I do recall your exchange with Zenos. The fury that burned within your eyes, a hatred so confounding.” Emet began, seeing the other’s brows furrowed. A sense of shock mulling over them, Na’na was disorientated by the statement. It was a feeling she was trying to overcome on her own efforts of understanding the world in current, how it was she struggled to find hope. Yet love fully everything around her she would.

“There is no love you have of the world, merely pity. A whimsical childish feeling of passion, that you hold onto because you are so blind to the truth I continue to give to you.” Emet continued, noting how Na’na did not speak from the exchange. Whilst she held onto thoughts and feelings that raced through her head. 

There were many nights like this, upon her request. To visit her in her own room, to dispute with her so she could inherently ‘understand.’ Yet they would always come to this point of an issue, her opinions and weight of thoughts were so small in comparison to his own. The  **ultracrepidarian** manner of which Na’na would bring to him each night, irritated him to no end. He was certain to breathe forth his full form and tear the inn room asunder.

“Just because it is you have only found beauty in the things that you've seen in your own eyes. Does not make it okay to infer that what was, is how it needs to be. Do you not realize the manner of your ways and thinking is no different from the prejudice of people who exist day by day? There is no difference in your wants and actions from them -.”

The fury.

The fury that Hades held in that moment, invoked a sense of pause in Na’na. Again, as if all that she had said wielded forth into a sword. That came unto his heart, and scared it whole. The audacity of this child before him, the absolute appalling manner her mind held disregard for the POINT of his statement. None of which seemed to bleed through into her mind.

“Look to me with anger, but you are no different from we. The fight you wish to bring is amiable, I believe in what it is you believe in too.” Hades had not realized - that she had agreed. In earnest, did this mean she would cease?

“Ultimately, if the ideas we poor into one another do not match alone. Let it be the wills of our hopes to clash together. Let it be that alone, that decides what is best for the future to come. For the belief I have in myself, and upon the worlds I stand on - or will never come to see. We invoke the right of life. That your people gave unto fate - and if it is that you would change the whims of fate to settle your own needs. So be it, Emet-selch… So be it.” Na’nas voice had grown quite with a seeming touch of gentleness. 

‘Truly,’ Hades thought, the glimmer of Azem’s flame bellowing within her, ‘A youth of Azem’s flame, wrought to life.’

“In the end I wish there was another way, where we could live amongst ourselves.”

“Impossible, and you irk me with such a proposition.” 

“That matters not, it is truly my wishful opinion and I will gladly stand by it!” For whatever reason she had began to beam, so alike the sun she fervently were, “And if it is that I die for it, so be it. It will be that I fought for the oath I made, and the hope to which I stand for.”


	10. Part .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love letters and feelings of how they feel for one another.

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A love Letter. Unsent. Woven in thoughts, kept in mind.

Every Part of you kindles the feelings alike a fire in mine mind, I think oft times where I lived on its fumes. Exhausted. Dejected. Tired. Lost. Yet ever did you remain still my heart with your inspiration. Having done nothing but lived your life unto the bitter end, with such encompassing love of the world with no disregard for it. Fight for the belief and will of hope, carry on and stand tall you did. Yet at the end of your life upon this plane, the light of your own eyes had come to an end.

Twas not you who had woke me from my chambers, but the welcoming of hell that had tided me away from slumbers. Gentle voices whispering to me of hope, telling me of the world and what it had come to be. That in their efforts, I was their guiding light for a future that may not come to be - Hope.

In the books was all I had left of you, and curious I were as none would tell tales of remembered traits of you and your comical mannerisms. However fervently was I pleased to know upon my mortal rest. You continued your life onwards, with success upon your chest. As bountiful as they are, so too were your exploits and vast love you had of the world.

Yet even still your life had come unto its end, and the sorrow I had felt to know my dear friend - the one I had truly come to affirm the meaning of Love with. Had left far too soon from this life - that there in your attempts to secure the future most true. The world had ushered forthin into a new calamity. One that surely would bring about its end.

Stand tall, I must and stand Tall I did. With the kindling assurance that I would bring you from your grave in another life. In another time, how urgently the world missed its hero. How urgently, I had missed your sweet embrace. I looked forward unto the well of hope each and everyone had grasped upon. Our reliance upon you, upon the scions, upon the ever fervent future of hope - heeded me to go forward.

There every step of the way, I felt your Love. 

The days where the fumes of it did ought but remind me of my own disbelief, shackled still by my own past. Of those who thought me nothing but a mistake pressed into existence. Wherein your eyes reminded me well, of the hope you had seen in me. The Love that you had of me, and for decades I thought on it. Day by day, in wonder as to why you felt this way. Merely always simply saying. With an utterance unto my ears, “G’raha Tia. I Love you.”

Oh how I ached, to hear such sweetness again.

Tethered to my duty, one that I held such purpose for. I wished for the sweetness that existed in every part of you. For me. For the world. For its people. To come forth again, when it was we needed you the most. When it is that I needed you the most, I concur to the future before us. Ye shall not quarry with our hope, and with each everyone one of our peoples beliefs. Did I carry on, as their sacrifice would not be in vain. For their love for the future, for you, for my own existence, carried on for me to Stand Tall.

Yet had you not existed, to inspire me with hope. Instilled that truly out upon this world, there existed Hero’s so fervently invested in the betterment of the world. I would not be able to pardon forward, nay. Tis hard to hold belief in oneself that a future so whole could exist with such immaculate fortitude and love.

Yet always did you persevere, no matter the hardships you endured.

Yet always did you temper onward, no matter the heated fears that you faced.

Yet always, did you give every part of you to others. No matter what they took from you.

I carry on, with my Love for you. Oh, My inspiration. How it is I’ve the words to test the qualms of pages within a book. How chaptered and eternal it is my devolution to you. I beg of the, to never lose sight of who you are. Carry on my friend, and always stand Tall.

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Every part of you reminds me of the pool of love I have dove deep into, where the oceans churn and the feelings cool against my heated skin. A feeling of pleasure invoked upon me and mine own body, burning ardently as I think well so much about you. Every part of your heart, your mind, your soul bridles such form from me as I could never give unto you it in length. For you had left too soon for me, for you had gone away from me, and every part of me ached with such a fury that the cool of the oceans could do not to deter its heat. 

Much like a volcano so I burned, wishing the amalgamation of feelings I had. Could turn into a physical being that I could wear my strength away at. Yet deep within the depths of this ocean, I drowned by the feelings of Love. All of which that welled so deep from you. How it was you spoke to me, and even with an inclination of my past. Never without perception of my disdain for myself. Did you accept me whole.

The broken glass that made up from me, lined so much like the Kintsugi found within the stalls of Shirogane. Welled whole with the reminders of your own love, the kindness stoked unto me permanently. The reminder there that life may be cruel, but that it also could be fairer. Even if the unkindness of your disappearance. Sliding betwixt the Towers Hold, did I ever think myself Loved. After the tears that spent unto the Ocean I drown in. There I am reminded of the Love we had shared. 

Kindness comes from the strength that you had gave me, the tenderness of your lips. The soft touch of your fingertips. The scholarly voice in reminder of how it was you felt, why it was you felt, and the strength of your eyes when you’d never dare to look away from me. How it was we spent oft a few months with one another. Seemingly true to staying within my heart like it were centuries. As if there would be no love there ever again like the one we shared - I begged the Gods to invoke kindness in me. If not to find a man so true like you one day again, that I would be satisfied with the love you hath give to me.

Selfish and broken I ere’d forward, seeking satisfaction in life all around me. The beauty of others always coming to me. To share my body and my heart mean’t that, in truth I would love all. So much so how I had come to love you, with want of none to love me I gave onwards to all who would have me. In the kindness I invoked from my memories with you, a well of love that I no longer found myself drowning within.

Outwardly did it poor, alike waves crashing gently upon other shores. Happiness found me, as I found and gave to others. Never did I found myself drowning again.

Until it were, you stood before me. A hooded figure, the questionable alto of thine voice. Oh sweet succor, how it was the love pool’d forth again all around me and my eyes gleamed far brighter then the stars. For no longer was it the oceans and waves of water - twas bought the ocean of stars that encapsulated froth me. Glimmering brightly and so pleased, as if all the world was right. As if the universe had felt right, the parting calm that stilled my soul. Glowered alike a star, as I no longer drowned but burned in earnest. Fast. 

The heat I had once felt I realized, was not my own sense of being loss alike a volcano brewing in the heat beneath the cool of the ocean. Twas my burning star within my heart, urgently glowing with want and heat to give unto all light to the stars I could reach.

Oh how it was this is how you made me feel, and beg to the world I did.

Reach to the stars I would.

So that all everlasting would hear of my love, and know of my name.

Na’na Niall, and the inextricable love I hath have of you and the hope you bring from me.

Tis you, who are my Hope. G’raha Tia.


End file.
